Whose war?

Why do my fingers refuse to pull the trigger?
When I have been sent out here to kill you?
I can’t rid myself of the question:
What makes you my enemy?
What wrong have you done me?
I don’t even know your name…
They said that would make it easier…
You stand with your weapon
Pointed at me, mirroring mine
You too aren’t moving
Are you asking yourself the same questions too?

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